Raising Pinocchio

Tales on raising a child with autism and the kismet of living in semi-rural suburbia.

Thursday, October 26, 2006

Pass the Pickles, Please

Well, there's nothing like a pregnancy to keep one from keeping up with blog writing. If I'm not sprawled in front of the toilet, I'm supine on the couch ... wondering how I got myself into this mess. At 38 years *young* I'm pregnant for the third and LAST time. I guess my husband and I are the types who crave chaos.

The thing is, this pregnancy wasn't even planned. In the past, I never could understand when someone said that they got pregnant "by accident." I mean, any adult knows how pregnancy occurs. What the heck is "by accident"?! Well, now I know. "By accident" means that you've been having too infrequent intimacy such that when the opportunity presents itself you just go for it, you drank too much, or simply decided to throw caution to the wind -- in our case, it meant all three! And therein lies the secret to "by accident."

Oh, we thought we might want to have another little one. In fact, we thought next year would be a fine time to start trying. Unfortunately, we forgot that my husband is an expert marksman -- a hole in one with our first pregnancy, requiring only a few tries for our second pregnancy, and now a hole in one for our third. Heck, he could give Tiger Woods a run for his money! His boys can swim!

Yet Life is a blessing and we know that we truly have been blessed. At least 3 times now.